


Eggplant Emoji

by Reioka



Series: Pride Pockets [4]
Category: Marvel
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexuality, F/M, Sex-Neutral Asexual, pride fic, pride month
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 20:11:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19363432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reioka/pseuds/Reioka
Summary: Natasha doesn't know why Bucky doesn't want to have sex with her.





	Eggplant Emoji

**Author's Note:**

> I've noticed I've written mostly sex-repulsed asexuals and I wanted to change that, because it's a spectrum and there are some aces who don't mind having sex and they should be represented, too.

Eggplant Emoji

 

Natasha scowled down at her menu.

 

Tony stared at her, then held his hand up and shook his head. The waitress that had been approaching turned on her heel and went to a different table instead, giving him a silent nod of understanding.

 

“So,” he said slowly. “You. Seem to be glaring a hole in your menu. Not that that’s a problem!” he added hastily when she lifted her glare to him instead. “If you wanna see if you can burn a hole in it, be my guest! It would be cool if you had laser eyes!”

 

“It would not,” Natasha informed him.

 

“You’re right, it wouldn’t, you glare at us a lot,” Tony agreed. He poured her some more sangria. “What’s eating you? Is it something you can tell me? It’s not a state secret is it?”

 

“No,” she mumbled mulishly. She handed her menu to the waitress as she cautiously approached. “Eggs Benedict. Extra ham please.”

 

The waitress stared at her, uncomprehending.

 

“You don’t like Eggs Benedict,” Tony said after a stunned pause.

 

“Well maybe I just want to hate myself today,” Natasha hissed at him sharply, and the waitress scurried off in terror.

 

Tony stared at her for a long time, bewildered and, honestly, a little hurt. Finally, he said, “If you didn’t want to get brunch today, you could have said so.”

 

Natasha took a deep breath, then let it back out in a slow sigh. She fiddled with her napkin, then set it back down on the table. “…James won’t fuck me.”

 

Tony stared at her again.

 

“I’ve given him tons of hints, and he’s not an idiot, right?” she added, leaning her elbow on the table and digging her hand into her hair, gripping it tight. “He’s talked about the people in his past. Hell, I was one of them. But I try and put his hands on my boobs, or I stick my hand down his pants, and he just… doesn’t react at all? What if it’s me,” she asked, stricken, and jerked up to give him a slightly wild stare. “What if I’m pressuring him? He said his therapists cleared him but what if he wasn’t really cleared? What if I’m making him uncomfortable? What if I’m reminding him of the Red Room all over again and he hates it?”

 

“Holy shit,” Tony said, and poured her glass full to the brim. “Drink this. Drink it.”

 

“What if he doesn’t really like me,” she mumbled before chugging half of her sangria and then holding it out for a refill.

 

“He talks about how cool you are all the time,” Tony pointed out, making sure she got some pineapple in her glass. She loved pineapple. “And how he likes the way you can break people’s necks with your thighs.”

 

Natasha huffed, amused and annoyed in turn. “Yeah, but none of those things say ‘I wanna put my penis in your vagina until we both orgasm,’ Tony.”

 

“Why would you say that in front of my face,” Tony asked. “Worse! Right here in front of my sangria!”

 

“You brought it up!” she exclaimed defensively.

 

“Have you just told him that you want sex? Like, explicitly?” Tony asked, and then tilted his head wonderingly. “Wow, this is really weird. Usually I’m on the other end of the communication advice. I feel kinda powerful?”

 

“Shut up,” Natasha said, and then, “Help me get the waitress’s attention so I can change my order. I hate Eggs Benedict.”

 

Before Tony could even open his mouth, the waitress was back, setting down plates. “Here’s your egg-white omelet with feta, olives, and tomatoes, and your banana pancakes with chocolate chips and a side of fruit salad,” she said pleasantly.

 

Natasha stared at her pancakes. “But I ordered Eggs Benedict.”

 

“…Ma’am, the last time you had Eggs Benedict, you spit your hollandaise sauce all over Mr. Stark,” the waitress said after a moment. “And then you ordered us to never let you order them again. You threatened the manager with a taser.”

 

“…Thank you,” Natasha said, and ducked over her pancakes, spearing a piece of honeydew melon to stuff in her mouth.

 

“I’m gonna hold this over you forever,” Tony said gleefully, and then cried ‘hey!’ plaintively when Natasha curled her arm around the bowl of fruit salad so he couldn’t get any.

 

.-.-.-.

 

“Do you want to have sex with me?” Natasha asked.

 

Bucky stared at her, then looked down at sandwich he was eating. He looked back up at her, confused but not upset. “Sure. Can I finish my sandwich?”

 

Natasha stared at him. “Wait. So you don’t think I’m repulsive? Or… I’m not triggering you?”

 

Bucky looked even more confused. “When did I say you were repulsive? Are you sure I wasn’t talking about Tony and Steve?”

 

“Shut up they’re cute. Tony’s just starting to realize Steve likes him,” Natasha said defensively.

 

Bucky looked both surprised and appalled. “They’ve been dating for three years! They’ve lived together for six months!”

 

“Shut up Tony’s got self-esteem issues,” Natasha said again.

 

“I guess!” Bucky agreed, offended on Tony’s own behalf, what the fuck. “So what did I do to make you think I believed you were repulsive? You’re not triggering me, by the way, I really wish people would believe that I’m on the same page with my therapist.”

 

“A lot happened to you,” Natasha tried to defend, and then looked down at her feet. “But I understand. I just worry, but that’s no excuse. I’m sorry.”

 

Bucky looked at her, considering, before he finally said, “Thanks, I’ve never considered you repulsive in my life though?”

 

“Well, you…” Natasha began, then crossed her arms over her chest, hoping it didn’t show off how embarrassed she was. She’d definitely have to stop giving Steve and Tony shit for not communicating anymore. This was hard. “…You never wanna… fuck me.”

 

Bucky frowned at her. “I mean… fucking is something to do, I guess.”

 

Natasha stared at him, speechless.

 

Bucky sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face before reaching back to rub the back of his head. “I mean, I don’t hate having sex, I guess. I just don’t ever… feel the urge? So if you wanna fuck, you have to tell me, otherwise it doesn’t really enter my mind.”

 

“…But,” she began.

 

“The dames I usually ran with in the forties had no problem bossin’ me around, sweetheart,” Bucky drawled. “They let me know what they wanted when they wanted it, and I went along with it.”

 

Natasha considered this, frowning, before gently asking, “And you were okay with that?”

 

“Like I said, I don’t mind having sex,” he repeated, perhaps a touch sternly. “Gettin’ off feels good. I like it. But it’s not something I actively think about or even need. But if you need it? That’s fine, too. Sex isn’t something I’m opposed to. You just gotta tell me when you want it, otherwise I don―is this why you looked so offended when you stuck your hand down my pants and I said you could have my belt if you wanted it, no need to play dirty?!” he gasped, offended again.

 

“It’s not my fault you thought I was trying to steal your belt instead of grabbing for your dick,” she said defensively. “I’d literally just said ‘get in my mouth.’“

 

“I THOUGHT YOU WERE TALKING ABOUT THE MCDONALD’S COMMERCIAL WE’D JUST WATCHED BECAUSE YOU LIKE THEIR FRIES!” Bucky bellowed, equally defensive, and then exclaimed, “Where are you going?!”

 

“I’m dragging Tony out to drink with me because he’ll never believe this,” Natasha hissed, stomping toward the door.

 

“Don’t tell Tony he’ll tell Steve and Steve will make fun of me until I die!” Bucky wailed.

 

Natasha paused in the doorway, then turned narrowed eyes over her shoulder. “Did Steve know about this?”

 

Bucky’s mouth open and closed uselessly before he squeaked out, “Maybe? There weren’t words for it back then, but he’s pretty much always known I haven’t operated on a sexual level. What’s the word Bruce used? Ace? Except sex doesn’t disgust me like it does him. I’m actually quite happy to―”

 

“Steve knew and didn’t warn me,” Natasha hissed. “I’ve thought there was something you found repulsive about me and he said  _nothing_.”

 

“We owe it to Tony not to kill Steve since he’s only just now realizing Steve likes him!” Bucky called after her as she continued stomping out. “Let him enjoy it a little!”

 

“AGH,” Natasha yelled back at him, slamming the door behind her.

 

.-.-.-.

 

“Why does Steve keep texting me crying emojis?” Bucky asked as Natasha curled up on his chest.

 

“Don’t check your texts while fucking me,” Natasha whined.

 

“I have an insane refractory period, doll, you would die if I kept fucking you. Drink some water.”

 

Natasha pawed at the water bottle he’d handed her when he’d finally rolled to the side. “Fine.”

 

“Oh, this one’s just a sad face with a tear, maybe the crying has stopped,” Bucky said, and then, “Nope, more tears. What’d you do to him?”

 

“I told Tony that Steve let me feel repulsive for no reason,” she drawled. “He was very upset. He said if Steve didn’t want to invade your privacy and tell me he could have at least urged you to so that I wouldn’t feel so bad.”

 

“Okay, so he’s sorry,” Bucky reasoned. “But why is he sending me crying emojis and not you?”

 

“Because Tony was so offended on my behalf that he had to ‘take a flight in the suit’ and he’s been gone for three hours,” she replied.

 

Bucky considered this. “He deserves it,” he said finally. “I’m sending Tony a fruit basket for being so nice to you. Little weirdo loves fruit baskets.”

 

“Get him the one with apricots,” Natasha slurred, and then, “Alright, I’m ready, let’s go again.”

 

“Rest a little more. I wanna send Steve some smug-ass emojis, what should I send him?”

 

“Smirking face and eggplants,” Natasha answered immediately.

 

“I don’t know what the eggplants mean but I trust you,” Bucky said.

 

Steve went from crying faces to angry faces, so he figured it was worth it.


End file.
